


Exhausted

by rtobez



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, WTF am I even doing, Wayhaught - Freeform, absolute 1am drabble, don’t bother reading this, honestly trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rtobez/pseuds/rtobez
Summary: Waverly Earp doesn’t get scared of demons anymore. She doesn’t fear dark, supernatural forces by now. But mice? Now that’s taking it too farORThe one where Waverly just wants some sleep.





	Exhausted

**Author's Note:**

> This really is trash. I kinda maybe wrote it at 1am because I can kinda maybe hear mice in my room?? Anyway please excuse the mistakes, there’s bound to be loads.

Waverly Earp did not scare easily. She battled alongside her sister on a daily basis to fight demons and send them back to the deepest darkest pits of hell. She faced a near death experience at least once a month, not to mention all the injuries inbetween. Not only this, but she was also bound by blood to a secret government agency and tasked with protecting an entire town from supernatural creatures. So when a couple of mice showed up in her room one night, it really shouldn’t have scared her so much. But god dammit, it did.

When Waverly first heard the scratching, she had sat up bolt upright in her bed, scrabbling for the torch on her nightstand (the clock beside it flashing 03:02 AM) and shining it around into the shadowed corners of her bedroom. She saw nothing, but still the scrabbling sound of tiny claws on wooden floors filled her ears, seemingly sourceless. That night she sat up, with the torch in her hand, glancing around the room in fear, until the sun rose and her alarm blared, signalling the time when she could finally escape from the noise. She was tired that day, rubbing her eyes and guzzling coffee till the tips of her fingers trembled from the caffeine, but the team chalked it down to the usual sleepy disposition that accompanied their early morning shifts.

On the second night, exhaustion weighing her down, Waverly had fallen into the warmth of her bed (and bonus blankets) in relief, prepared for a good nights sleep after the previous evening of wakeful torture. Reading a book on some ancient language first to tire her eyes, she curled up with a small smile on her face. Wynonna had killed a revenant that day, with Waverly providing all the necessary research on its location and history, and it was fair to say that the younger girl deserved a rest. So when the scratching began again, Waverly fought the urge to scream into her pillow, instead sitting up and grabbing her torch again with shaking hands. Terrified.

Another night completely devoid of sleep left the youngest Earp grouchy and unfocused. That second day, she was essentially avoided by her fellow black badge agents after shouting at Jeremy over some sort of incident with an important file and a spilled drink. Nicole offered a small smile and a steaming cup of coffee that Waverly greatly appreciated, but still the brunette’s bad mood persisted just like the bloodshot eyes that raked over countless ancient reports. This time, Doc convinced the others that she had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. If only he knew. It was hard to wake up on the wrong side of the bed when you didn’t fall asleep in the first place. 

The third night was the worst yet. Waverly’s eyes burned as she glanced around the infested bedroom, torch in hand (batteries changed after it’s excessive use). She expected, just like the other two nights, to hear tiny squeaks and scratches, and little else. It was this night, however, that the girl caught a flash of a pink tail whipping around the door of her wardrobe, followed a few minutes later by a tiny bouncing nose and pointed ears. Again, Waverly reminded herself that she fought powerful demons every day of her life, but there was something about those tiny brown creatures that spooked her more than bright red eyes and glowing marks could ever. The brunette welcomed the soft light of dawn shining through the crack in her curtains, still sat in the same position she had been for the past three days - knees drawn up to her chest, darting wide eyes, and white knuckles gripping the torch. She dragged herself out of bed at 7, her alarm blaring uselessly at her from the nightstand. With Wynonna driving the truck to work that morning, Waverly’s eyes began to droop on the journey, but just as she was about to drift into her first peaceful sleep in days, they pulled up outside the oh-so-familiar police station only to be greeted by a determined Dolls and a cheerful Nicole, both of whom were being far too loud for this early in the morning, by Waverly’s standards. She barely spoke a word all morning, too tired to be grumpy anymore. 

It was only when her head drooped over case file, eyes drifting shut and breath evening out, that Nicole took action. Dolls, Doc, Jeremy and Wynonna had left for a stakeout about an hour beforehand, so the redhead approached her girlfriend’s desk and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Waves?”

With a sharp gasp, the girl sat bolt upright in her seat, eyes snapping open.

“Hey, it’s me. Chill, Waverly.” Nicole sighed with a soft smile. “Care to explain why you look like a zombie started walking?”

“Gee,” the brunette grumbled. ”Thanks Nic.”

The taller girl gave her a questioning look, and Waverly finally began to explain with an embarrassed sigh.

“There’s mice in my room. I haven’t slept in three days because they keep scratching at my door and I saw one last night, flashing that disgusting tiny tail and squeaking right at me - I swear. I know they’re just mice and I fight demons all the time but they’re tiny and gross and in my room and- god Nicole. They fucking creep me out.”

The older girl breathed out a soft laugh as she enveloped her girlfriend in a soft hug, Waverly burying her face in the crook of Nicole’s neck, completely and utterly exhausted. She breathed in the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla dip doughnuts, fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there.

“Wanna stay at mine tonight?” The muffled response came only a second later.

“Please.”


End file.
